


work it out

by Val_Creative



Series: IT Movies Fic-Palooza 2019 [50]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adult Losers Club (IT), Ben Hanscom Loves Beverly Marsh, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Beverly Marsh Loves Ben Hanscom, Bill Denbrough Loves Mike Hanlon, Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Drama & Romance, Eddie Kaspbrak & Beverly Marsh Are Best Friends, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Established Relationship, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Explicit Language, F/M, Feel-good, Friendship, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, Lapdance, M/M, Mike Hanlon Loves Bill Denbrough, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Stanley Uris Lives, Strip Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 07:50:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21175949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: “Are you saying this is a groupstripteaselesson?”





	work it out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheSchubita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSchubita/gifts).

> Requested by TheSchubita (AO3): "group striptease lessons: reddie, benverly, hanbrough, stanpat. inspired by a vid."
> 
> WE ARE ENDING THIS ON A HIGH NOTE. Yes. This is the end right now. I've got 50 fics on this challenge and I am burned out. I have loved doing everyone's prompts/requests. Thank you to every person who took the time to comment and leave a story request. You are the reason why this got to be as successful as it was. I'm astonished and honored.
> 
> I would love to hear not just if you liked this fic, but any last words. Goodbyes. I do hope that I'll see each and every one of you again on another fic. I know I'll be writing for IT again for sure. I'm sending you guys all of my love! 💜

*

The last two to arrive are Eddie and Richie, gesturing wildly, bickering over suitcases left in their hotel.

Across the length of the bare, naturally lit dance studio, their voices ring out. _"C'mon, Eds—"_

_"You're a lousy piece of shit, you know that—"_

"Glad to see you too, Eddie-dear," Beverly interrupts, grinning, slinging her arms to his neck. Eddie's cheeks lessen their flush. He switches quickly from irritable to thoughtful, wrapping an arm securely to her middle. Stanley and Mike huff down laughs.

Richie hugs Ben, smiling tight-lipped and clapping his back.

"As much as I _love_ doing another Brady Bunch reunion with you geezers… what the _fuck_ are we doing here?" he asks.

"It was my idea," comes a soft, unfamiliar voice.

All of the Losers, including Stanley, glance around to Patricia Uris. She's around Beverly's height, thicker in the hips and stomach and paler in complexion. Round, angelic features. Older by seven or eight years to Stanley's thirty-nine. Her dark blonde hair swept up into a remarkably smooth, perfect bun. Patricia's deep blue eyes roam over the group with mild solemnness.

"I thought it would be a fun way to… I guess to get to know you all," she mumbles.

Bill glances in amusement to Stanley who raises his eyebrows, grinning and placing an encouraging hand to his wife's shoulder. Patricia bashfully leans into him, dropping her hand over Stanley's on her. "When Stanley used to talk about his friends, I would get so jealous. _Hateful_. I know I shouldn't have and I couldn't stop myself. I finally told Stanley how I was feeling and he suggested we all meet like this. I'm sure it's silly…"

Beverly shushes her kindly. "Patty, honey. You know you're my best girl," she says beaming, cradling the other woman's face. Patricia lets out a quivery, low giggle, sniffling, holding onto Beverly's wrists and squeezing down affectionately.

"_I call best boy_!" Richie hollers, grunting when Mike elbows him in the ribs. Eddie ignores his fiance, snapping his fingers.

He points a young, brown-skinned woman approaching.

"Hi, guys! Welcome!"

A chorus of polite, loud hellos.

She's in a skintight, magenta crop-top and athletic leggings, and has an irresistibly cheerful energy about her.

"My name is Steph. I'm a professional dancer and instructor." Steph goes around to each person in their group, shaking their hand and hearing them repeat their names. "We've got you signed up for a couple hours. Today we're gonna get you to loosen up with erotic dance moves. Very simple and very entertaining. You don't have to be discouraged about not getting it on your first try."

When '_erotic_' gets mention, there's shocked murmurs. Ben's mouth falls open. Twin patches of red appears on Bill's face.

"You're tell me this is a group _striptease_ lesson?" Richie speaks up, his eyes widening.

"Is that a problem?" Steph questions, pleasantly, brightly.

"No," he replies, chuckling awkwardly. "I would have put on the good ole spandex if I had known—"

"—-beep beep, Richie," Eddie mutters, slapping a hand forcefully to Richie's lips.

"Alrighty, so, is everyone here a couple or what?" The instructor observes them all nodding. "Good. Let's pair yourselves off with your partner and do a little introduction." She waits for them to rearrange. "How long has everyone here been together?"

Stanley gazes around and then announces calmly, "We've been married five years."

"Our adopted daughter just graduated middle school," Patricia adds. Her blue eyes squinting in enthusiasm. "Top of her class."

"Incredible!"

"One and half years," Ben whispers, embracing a snuggly, smiling Beverly to his front, towering over her.

Beverly nods. "I'm two months pregnant."

Steph claps her hands once, looking dreamy-eyed. "I'm three weeks myself. Don't you worry, Momma—we're not gonna work you too hard. Just tell me what you need. Water, rest, anything." Beverly thanks her quietly, feeling Ben's lips caressing her temple.

Richie shrugs his hands into his jean pockets, blowing air through his nostrils.

"Engaged. Four weeks."

"Five weeks and three days," Eddie corrects him, sending Richie a knowing but gentle look. Richie's mouth twitches up.

"… What he said."

The instructor turns to Bill and Mike. "How about you two?"

"O-oh…" Bill eyes Mike who offers a slow, heartfelt grin, flushing again. "I j-just got d-d-divorced."

Steph hesitates.

_"Oh."_

"Ex-wife," Mike says helpfully, clearing his throat and rubbing Bill's upper shoulder-blade comfortingly. "Bill and I have been waiting until the papers finalized." There's a heavy, embarrassed period of silence, and Richie trying to stifle down laughter.

"You don't have to go into the details," Steph assures them, changing the subject. "Okay, let's get some chairs."

*

Mike, Patricia, Eddie, and Beverly end up in folding chairs. The instructor goes through each dance move, having them watch, but teaching Bill, Stanley, Richie, and Ben to copy her. None of them are able to keep her fluid, experienced rhythm.

"Let's make this more interesting," Richie pants. "Whoever is the _last_ to touch the person grinding on them wins."

"With their hands?" Beverly clarifies, open into the thought.

"Yep."

"… I'm fine with that."

The rest of them agree amongst themselves, as Steph returns onto the dance floor, chugging her water bottle. "Let's see what you guys got! Line up in front of your partners and start walking!" she yells, remaining over the mirrors.

*

Music resembling 00's throwbacks blast from a high-powered boombox nearby.

Bill lowers his head and shuffles awkwardly through his failed '_seductive_' walk. His fingers work apart the buttons to his red-and-blue flannel, exposing his white tee. Mike's expression softens and his dark brown eyes pin on the love of his life.

Like everyone else, Bill's approximately two feet out of reach of each partner, doing the same dance moves.

Ben's hips swivel, lowering to the floor as he crouches down. His thin, fleecy sweater strips off. There's absolutely _no_ way Ben could have been the one in the chair. He would have _lost it_ at the possibility of Beverly gyrating herself against him. Ben tosses his sweater playfully in Beverly's direction. Beverly gleefully clutches it against her mouth and chin, blushing as red as her hair.

Richie ends up on his hands and feet, lifting himself and rolling his lower body. Humping the air, but _agonizingly_ slow. He catches Eddie's dazed, lusty gaze on him, winking. Eddie's knuckles go bone-white from gripping the steel-sides of his chair.

Stanley's leg pops gracefully into the air, crossing over as he whips his dark curls back, listening to Patricia groan feebly.

They all turn, flattening onto their bellies.

Ben arches, his gorgeous, muscular ass sticking out first, undulating and ending up on his knees. Someone else wolf-whistles. He smirks at his wife slouching down in her chair, still clutching for dear life to Ben's sweater and practically _melting_.

Getting closer, Bill walks over and positions behind Mike's chair, leaning over and slipping his arms over his boyfriend. Bill's head presses to Mike's cheek. "_Fuck, Mikey_," he croons, flushing so hard it it feels like the blood has shot right from Bill's dick to the very top of his skull. Mike moan-mumbles Bill's name, grasping lightly over Bill's forearms. Completely on instinct.

"You two lost!" Richie shouts, yanking off his belt.

As soon as it registers, Mike snorts. "That's okay," he tells a disappointed Bill, easing him in and kissing him on the mouth.

Eddie bites on his lips, half-glaring and half-mesmerized when Richie straddles him, legs spreading over Eddie's lap. He's faced away, dipping forward and wiggling his ass slightly. He dances _too_ goofy, upbeat and careless, with little to no balance—but by all things holy, and _unholy_, Eddie can feel his _heat_. Richie's erratic breathing. Tempting him.

Richie deposits himself fully into the other man's lap, caught up in the moment. He grinds sensually to Eddie's chest and pelvis. The heavy, steady pressure abruptly clenches up Eddie's balls. Eddie makes a guttural noise, pawing hungrily over Richie's thighs.

"Loser," Stanley blurts out monotonously, curled up in Patricia's folding chair and in her arms.

"When in the ever-loving _FUCK_ did you two—"

"Does that mean we won?" Ben asks, staring confused at a reddening, squirming Beverly. "Bev—?"

"Like _HELL_—"

"Quit being a sore loser, Rich—"

_"STANLEY, I'M GONNA EAT YOUR KNEECAPS—"_

In the background, Steph records the whole event on her phone, amused. This is gonna go viral in hours.

"_THAT'S IT!_ If I'm _LOSING_, so are the _REST OF YOU_!" Richie yells, hopping off as a new song plays. Dubstep blaring. He stretches a leg playfully over Beverly, grinning with all of his teeth as she laughs uproariously, throwing her head back. Richie's hips awkwardly pivot. He rolls his forearms and wrists together, dancing off the beat.

Ben smiles widely and swats Richie's ass with his palm as Beverly tosses Ben's sweater completely over Richie's head.

"Great idea, baby-love," Stanley murmurs into Patricia's ear, feeling a kiss on his scarred wrist.

"I know."

*


End file.
